


Everyone Loves A Terrorist

by Methoxyethane



Category: Gintama
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, M/M, ginzuraweek 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-06 01:26:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5397695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Methoxyethane/pseuds/Methoxyethane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So, I met someone,” Sakata said, small bits of excitement leaking into his normally deadpan voice. Hijikata felt dread swell in his heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everyone Loves A Terrorist

Modern AU:

“So, I met someone,” Sakata said, small bits of excitement leaking into his normally deadpan voice.

Hijikata raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” He had been wondering why the Yorozuya had called him specifically. Usually when the two of them hung out it was completely on accident because they happened to be too creepily in sync again – while they were probably friends or whatever, actively making plans was something they didn't really do. This loser must have been all kinds of giddy over finally finding someone with low enough standards to date him. “Where'd you meet her, the jail, abortion clinic or rehab?”

“Haha,” Sakata brushed him off sarcastically. “Although the real answer isn't that much better,” he admitted, taking a sip of his parfait. “So Madame Saigou had that huge blowout at her place for that Pride thing, right? She didn't have enough hands working because everyone wanted to party, so they hired me to help out.”

“And you fucked a tranny,” Toushirou guessed, pouring another side of mayonnaise onto his plate.

“No, I did not fuck a _tranny_ ,” Gintoki said defensively. “I fucked a CROSSDRESSER. He doesn't usually wear drag. Huge difference,” he argued pointedly. “And it was more than just the hot booty sex! We got to talking before that, and we really hit it off!”

Hijikata rolled his eyes, dipping a french fry into mayo and stuffing into his mouth. “Mm-hm. I'm sure it was electric.”

The goofy-ass look on Sakata's face was downright lovestricken. It was disgusting. “It kind of was, actually. We got to talking while I was working, and it turns out we went to the same high school! Even shared a favorite literature teacher!” He grinned, swirling his straw in his parfait dreamily. It warped into a perverted leer in half a second. “And then when I got off, I took him home and got HIM off. It was sweaty and delicious,” He grinned.

Hijikata's incredibly mature response was to spit a mouthful of potato-and-mayonaise into the last of Gintoki's strawberry parfait. “How's that for delicious.” There was, in the following minutes, a struggle to see which of the two completely grown men sitting in this public cafe could dump the glass into the other's lap. When it wound up upended on the table top instead, they discreetly threw some paper towels over the mess and snuck over to a clean table.

“Anyway,” Sakata continued as though the entire exchange had never happened, “When I woke up the next morning, I found him making breakfast. Pancakes, even!”

Hijikata was starting to realize there was no way to get this guy to shut up. Why the hell was he always the person everyone had to gloat about their love lives to? Was it because they knew he wasn't getting laid and wanted to rub their happiness in his face? Well, probably not in everyone's case. But he wouldn't put it past Sakata. “Uh-huh. Sounds magical.”

The Yoruzuya boss was perfectly content to ignore his sarcasm. “And Kagura absolutely adores him- he calls her Small Leader.”

“Bet she loves that.”

“Of course she does. And he gets along well with Shinpachi, too – went with him to one of those awful concerts of his just because that creepy Taka-tin friend of his backed out and he didn't have a ride anymore.”

“That Otsuu-chan garbage? I'd gouge my ear drums with an ice pick if I had to go to one of those crapfests.”

“Me too! And Zura VOLUNTEERED! Honestly, even _I_ was like 'am I even dating a sane person?'”

“ARE you even dating a sane person?” Toushirou asked, dawning realizing no one who isn't completely crazy would ever actually be into this hobo.

“Well, that's. Who's really sane nowadays?” Gintoki waved a dismissive hand. “He's better than sane. He's _perfect_. Gorgeous and funny and fits in with the kids. And he's socially conscious, too! He's one of those environmentalist-types, you know?” Sakata's voice was back to that gross lovey-dovey tone, but it was something about his words that gave Hijikata a sinking feeling like he knew where this was going.

“Oi, Yorozuya...”

“Apparently he goes to those civil rights rallies and stuff like that,” Gintoki continued, content to ignore him.

“Sakata,” Hijikata tried again.

“In fact just this week he was at a protest for like, animals or Greenpeace or something...”

“Gintoki,” Hijikata said firmly, loud enough for the other man to finally look at him. “He's in jail, isn't he?”

Sakata's answer was to grin at him.

“Oh, for FUCK'S sake, Sakata!” Toushirou stood up, grabbing his coat. “Our friendship does not exist so I can bail your boy-toys out of lockup!”

The Yorozuya stood up as well, following Hijikata to the door. “Aw, come on, Mr. Bigshot Police Lieutenant! Something like a little indecent exposure charge is no problem, right?”

“Only indecent exposure? I thought for sure he'd be a terrorist!”

“Well. That one might take some arguing either way, actually.”

“DAMN IT, SAKATA!”

Gintoki just grinned even broader. “You remember that teacher we both liked in high school?”

“Let me guess – also in prison for terrorism.”

“High treason!” He beamed, like that was n accomplishment to be proud of and not COMPLETELY FUCKING AWFUL.

“That's it. I quit. I quit our entire relationship. If I ever see you again I'm arresting you on the spot.”

“Okay, except that unless Otae and Kondo get divorced in the next three days I'll probably see you at their wine tasting party on Saturday,” Gintoki reminded him cheerfully

“THEN I'LL ARREST YOU WHEN I SEE YOU AT THE PARTY THIS WEEKEND GOODBYE FOREVER.”

–

Three days later at the party, Gintoki sauntered over to a wine-sodden Hijikata. “Hey, thanks for busting my Zura out. I knew you were a pal.” He raised his wine glass in a toast.

Hijikata drained the last of his own wine into his body, immediately pouring himself a new drink. “I didn't,” he said, gesturing to the other side of the room where Katsura Kotarou was laughing animatedly with the chief of police. “Kondo-san did. During what was supposed to be an interrogation, they bonded over women's rights. They are apparently now BFFs.”

Gintoki's grin split across his face, and he slung a friendly arm over Hijikata's shoulder. “I think we should toast! To our loving family!”

Hijikata did not toast. Hijikata spent the rest of the night trying to drown himself in merlot.


End file.
